


Under Fluorescent Light

by humorless_hexagon



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Carte Blanche, Crime Family, Emotional, Hurt/Comfort, Other, Post-Episode: s03e13-14 Juno Steel and the Mega-Ultrabots of Cyberjustice, angsty, but hopeful, listen nureyev deserves feelings, request, the depressing instrument
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-12 10:34:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28758915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/humorless_hexagon/pseuds/humorless_hexagon
Summary: Buddy clears her throat... “It seems that Ransom is experiencing a fit of emotion.”--Request from biclarisselarue on tumblr: Nureyev gets hugged and comforted as he deserves
Relationships: Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel
Comments: 3
Kudos: 99





	Under Fluorescent Light

Buddy is a vision in the harsh fluorescents of the Carte Blanche's meeting room. Her eyes are alight with a fire that could raise hell, but her jaw is firmly set in a grimace that could just as easily freeze that fire over. “I’m sure you all know why I’ve called you here--”

“No, actually.” Juno is livid for a number of reasons: the first one being that it was three in the goddamn morning when Jet shook him awake and told him to be quiet, second that he seems to be the only one who doesn’t know why they’re having a family meeting, third, everyone is here but Ransom, the slippery bastard. “Buddy, if you don’t mind I might actually sit this one out.”

“Of all people, Steel, you should--”

“Vespa, darling. Please.” Buddy clears her throat and then it seems like all eyes are on Juno. Whatever it was Buddy wanted, it wasn’t his fault. He hadn’t  _ done _ anything. “It seems that Ransom is experiencing a fit of emotion.”

Juno quirks an eyebrow in disbelief. “Really? That’s what this is about? Rita experiences ‘fits of emotion’ all the time and we don’t have random three AM meetings for that.”

“Sure, but I just cry real hard or eat a lot of snacks or go to sleep and it’s usually gone,” Rita defends herself, eyes wide behind her thick glasses. “Mistah Ransom has hardly left his room in days.”

“I fail to see what this has to do with me,” Juno scoffs. He’s deflecting and he knows everyone knows it.

“I never said it had anything to do with you,” Buddy soothes, steady as ever.

“Well you aren’t all staring down Jet!”

Jet shakes his head. “I do not know if that would be helpful in this situation.”

Vespa points a bitten, accusing nail at Juno. “Why did you break up with Ransom?”

“Wh-what we never--”

“Vespa, enough!” Buddy demands.

At this point, Rita explodes into tears. It’s a rather impressive fit of emotion, Juno thinks.

“It’s all my fault,” Rita weeps.

“Ransom and I didn’t… ‘break up,’” Juno explains weakly as he watches Buddy wrap a comforting arm around Rita. Juno wouldn’t say he is envious of how easy it is for Buddy to reach out and wipe the tears from Rita’s face, but his stomach twinges with something uncomfortable. “And it’s not your fault, Rita.”

Again, everyone’s eyes are on Juno and he shuffles under the pressure of the expecting gazes.

“Okay, I’ll talk to him,” he placates. “I’ll figure it out.”

Juno keeps his hands fisted at his side as he stops in front of Ransom’s door,  _ Nureyev’s _ door. He can hear Nureyev pulling the strings of his depressing instrument into a somber melody. Rather than knocking and ruining the music, Juno leans against the door, waiting for Nureyev to finish his song. It wanders from a mournful legato to something intense and smoldering. The frantic screech of bow on taunt strings fills Juno with a sudden trepidation. 

What if Nureyev didn’t want to talk? This conversation had been on pause for so long because of Nureyev’s reluctance to talk-- at least, what Juno assumed was his reluctance to talk. Juno is so lost in thought that he doesn’t realize the song is done until Nureyev is opening the door.

“Shit!” Juno exclaims as he quite literally falls into Nureyev’s arms.

“Have you been eavesdropping, my love?” Nureyev inquires. His half-smile looks forced as he props Juno up.

“I didn’t mean to. I was just… listening.”

“So eavesdropping,” Nureyev says, voice flat and humorless.

Juno inhales carefully and looks up to meet Nureyev’s eyes. “Did I break up with you?”

“What?” Nureyev blinks and searches Juno’s face for something he won’t find.

“Vespa thought I broke up with you, and Rita was crying because she thinks it’s her fault. But I don’t have any recollection of ending things with you. I thought you just needed some space from me. Turns out you needed space from everyone apparently, since you’ve been actively avoiding everyone on the ship for the last few days. Buddy suspected that something was up.” Juno fiddles with the cuff of his shirtsleeve, desperately hoping that Nureyev won’t kick him out, or, worse,  _ really _ break up with him.

Peter hums, moving to his bed to sit. Juno follows out of habit, but remains standing. “I suppose my behavior has been suspicious, but I assure you that it is nothing unordinary. I am simply… mourning my loss of privacy.”

“Rita was just--”

“I’m not mad at Rita anymore. Really, I’ve moved past that.”

“Are you sure?” Juno looms over Nureyev. Unable to meet his gaze, Nureyev shifts so his back is towards Juno. “Because not showing up to family mealtime three cycles in a row doesn’t sound like moving past it to me.”

“Juno, please,” Peter says, the usual control in his voice breaking like glass. “I just need time.”

“We don’t have time. You know that.”

Nureyev doesn’t say a word, keeps his back turned away from Juno so he can’t see his expression.

Juno sighs. “I’ll let the others know you need some space.” He makes a start to leave the room, but Nureyev reaches out to grab his wrist with a shaking grip.

“Wait.” Peter looks up, mascara already bleeding into the creases around his eyes. “Can you stay?”

Rather than leaving, Juno closes the door and moves to sit next to Peter on the bed. “Is this okay?” he asks, winding an arm around Nureyev’s torso like he saw Buddy do with Rita earlier. In turn, Nureyev clutches onto Juno, sobbing almost imperceptibly into his shoulder. Juno would have never guessed if he couldn’t feel the shake of Peter’s chest with each uneasy breath.

“I’ve got you,” Juno reassures. He can count the number of times he’s seen Nureyev cry on one hand, and almost all of them were from Rita’s holotapes. Juno can’t help but feel out of his depth as he rubs a comforting line up and down Nureyev’s back.

“You’re wrinkling my shirt.”

“Well you’re getting tears on mine, so I’d say we’re even.”

Nureyev pulls away to grab a discarded handkerchief from the nightstand and wipe the snot from his nose and tears from his eyes. Once he cleans up, Nureyev gently urges Juno to lie down onto the bed. It is, of course, just a ploy for him to use Juno’s chest as a pillow, but he can’t say he minds much.

Peter’s hair smells like the woodsy product he applies in his intricate morning ritual. It makes it a little difficult for Juno to run his hands through his hair, but he gives himself points for trying

The fluorescents in Peter’s room don’t seem to burn quite as bright as they do in the rest of the ship, but Juno thinks Nureyev looks beautiful in them just the same. The streaks and smudges of tears glint like gems in the light, pooling in the endless depths of his eyes until he closes them.

“I’m sorry you have to see me like this,” Nureyev apologizes as Juno brushes a stray eyelash that got caught in the disrupted rivulets on Peter’s cheeks.

“I’m not,” Juno confesses. It’s raw and it’s true, two things Juno is still aspiring to. He meditates on rawness and trueness as he kneads abstract shapes into Nureyev’s back. His stomach twinges again, and he can recognize it as hope this time.

“Oh…”

Juno desperately wishes that he knew what Nureyev means by his single-syllable response, but he doesn’t prod. Instead, he pulls Nureyev a little closer, squeezes him a little tighter, and holds on for dear life.

**Author's Note:**

> huge thanks to grace (@biclarisselarue on tumblr) for requesting and having the patience of a saint!
> 
> kudos and comments make my day! please leave some if you enjoyed :^)
> 
> and if you want to make a request of your own, find me on tumblr @sarcasticskeptic!


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